


Fake Laugh - Better For Me

by IWasMisunderstood



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ending A Friendship, Friendship, Projecting?? Onto MY characters??, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 13:02:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17244701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWasMisunderstood/pseuds/IWasMisunderstood
Summary: Ficlet I wrote listening to Better For Me by Fake Laugh on repeat. I actually liked this, so I'm posting it. The song is really good, I would definitely recommend it.





	Fake Laugh - Better For Me

           Emma looked at the wilting flowers on her kitchen table and sighed, shoving the last bite of eggs into her mouth. It had been for the best, really- Charles and her had been growing apart anyway. Better to cut ties than to awkwardly sit around and wait for the end. She got up from her chair and took her dirty plate to the sink, rinsing it under hot water. There was a single dirty pan on the stove, cooling still from her morning omelet, but other than that the kitchen was spotless. The air was tinted with the chemical taste of lemongrass disinfectant. Emma liked the smell- it gave her a feeling of cleanliness.

           Charles had been terrible about cleanliness- his apartment had been a pigsty before Emma helped him remodel it. There had been laundry strewn across the couch, wires criss-crossing from his seven phone chargers he didn’t have a place for, and dirty dishes stacked in the sink. It had taken six hours just to clean out the living room. Emma smiled at the memory, but her expression soured as daydreams caught up with reality. _Charles is gone,_ she reminded herself. _We mustn’t think of him._

           There wasn’t a definite reason she had decided to end her friendship with Charles- it was more of a feeling, really. Their interactions, once bright and exciting, had become dull. Minutes seemed to drag by, and each interaction felt like a cold, heavy cloth draped over Emma’s heart. She’s tried to convince herself that this was fine, every friendship has it’s dull spots, relationships took work. But it wasn’t normal, she reasoned with herself, to feel this sad every time she saw him. Like she was running a race she knew she’d never win. What was the end goal of their friendship, anyway? Just to fade out of each other’s lives, dwindling off into their own stories? A run-on sentence never brought to a definite end. Emma took a deep breath and raised her chin in a practiced curt expression. _It makes no sense to think about it. Things had to come to an end- I just gave them a little push._

           Emma pushed down her thoughts, stuffing them into a small cardboard box. She labeled the box ' _Charles_ ' and placed it in the corner of her mind to accompany ' _Julia_ ,' ' _Chris_ ,' ' _Dominique_ ,' ' _Nessa_ ,' and the dozens of other small boxes bound with packing tape. She realized that the water was still running, and she turned off the faucet, turning her head so she wouldn’t see the water taper off from the spout. She picked up a dishrag and dried off her plate, stacking it neatly in the cabinet with the other plates. She donned a businesslike, cold expression, proving to the empty flat that she was perfectly alright, thank you. Breaking off friendships was what she did best, after all. She’d had so much experience over the years that she’d unknowingly perfected her act down to her expression and posture. Emma squared her shoulders and walked back over to her kitchen table, lacing each step with purpose.

           Every time, without fail, Emma’s new ‘friend’ would say something to her, thinking they could change her. Thinking they could ‘fix’ her when she was already perfectly capable of existing in her own way. _Emotions are messy,_ Emma thought, smoothing out her skirt and carrying her glass flower vase to the kitchen sink. She drained the slightly smelly water as she held the wilting flowers against the vase. Small white petals fell from the dying blossoms, landing in her sink like flakes of dandruff. _It’s so much easier to just… not get involved._ Emma rinsed out the vase and put it on a dishrag beside the sink to dry. The flowers were dumped unceremoniously in her kitchen garbage. Emma lifted the trash bag and tied the ends, opening her door and walking to the trash chute in her dimly-lit hallway.

           Charles must be feeling sad. Angry, confused, betrayed. Emma was lucky she didn’t have to suffer from those same feelings. Despite her best efforts to compartmentalize the memories, an image of Charles’ face as she left his apartment flashed across her mind.

           “ _B_ _ut Em, I just… why? Can you at least tell me why?_ ” _Emma looked down, the pained expression on Charles’ face branding itself behind her eyelids. She swallowed, and looked down, willing her eyes not to tear up. She didn’t even answer him- she turned the knob, opened the door, and didn’t look back. The last thing she’d seen was his pained expression, still not understanding._

 _No. No, we will not cry. Pull yourself together._ Emotions were too messy, and Emma needed to be clean. With one last look at the plastic bag, Emma opened the chute and dropped it in, the weak thump of the bag hitting the bottom of the chute echoing in the small hallway. She wiped her eyes and rearranged her face into the expression she knew wouldn’t let her fall. Straightening her spine, Emma walked back into her apartment and closed the door. She didn’t look back.

**Author's Note:**

> Projecting?? Onto MY characters?? no way............


End file.
